


ash of roses

by playersgonplay



Category: Cinderella (1950), Cinderella (Fairy Tale), Cinderella - All Media Types
Genre: Ass to Mouth, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Face-Fucking, Farting, Lesbian Sex, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 21:24:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17129015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playersgonplay/pseuds/playersgonplay
Summary: Cinderella is submissive and obscene.





	ash of roses

Making sweet Elle, with her cornsilk hair and apple cheeks, get on her knees is almost ridiculously easy. But it’s exactly what Isabelle is good at, given that the poor girl has been so beaten down by the ever-changing wishes of Isabelle’s Mother and the mercurial manner of Isabelle and Odile, and so making her making her do awful, sinful things with such obedience is as simple as breathing. 

“Clean this,” Isabelle orders, sitting in the center of a pile of soft indigo linen gowns and opulent ivory dresses, holding out a rounded perfume bottle that glows alluringly gold in the light, though it is slightly dusty. 

“Right away, Madam,” Elle bobs into a quick curtsy, reaching out to take it. 

“Ah, ah, ah!” Isabelle shifts back, flouncing further into the silks, “With your mouth, you gibbering  _ idiot _ .” She holds out the bottle again. 

Elle shifts on her feet, before leaning forward slightly, opening her soft pink mouth wide. 

“Oh, please,” Isabelle scoffs, “Get on your knees and do it.”

Elle drops to her knees a moment later, opening her mouth again like a baby, tongue rose as it lays flat against her chin, and Elle doesn’t move even as Isabelle reaches forward and grasps her delicate jaw with periwinkle-glossed nails, rubbing the bottle over her tongue so that her spit coats it and it begins to shine much better than the dull gleam of it before. 

“It’s acceptable,” Isabelle frowns down at the girl kneeling before her, settled on her haunches. She considers her slightly. “I wonder . . .” She thinks aloud, twirling a single hay-gold strand of hair around her finger. 

She begins to slowly draw the perfume bottle in and out of Elle’s mouth, watching as Elle keeps taking it, until really, Isabelle muses, it becomes almost sexual in its act, like she’s  _ fucking _ Elle’s mouth with her bottle . . . 

“Oh, you  _ are _ filthy, aren’t you?” Isabelle says, gleefully, grabbing another dirty bottle from her dresser and doing it again, rolling it into the wet hollows of Elle’s mouth before she begins to fuck her mouth again and again and again. “Disgusting wretch, you  _ like _ this, don’t you—”

“Ugh,” Odile says boredly from her bed on the other side of the room, “What are you doing to her, Isabelle?”

“Odile, dear sister, you have absolutely no idea how obscene our lovely Elle here is,” Isabelle says, spittle beginning to drip down Elle’s chin. 

Isabelle pulls the bottle from Elle’s mouth, before ordering again, “Get up.”

Elle does quickly, though her face and chest are flushed now, as though she’s embarrassed, and she makes to retreat, smoothing down her charcoal-dusted skirts and stepping back into a quick curtsy, turning—

“No,” Isabelle says, delight in her voice, “No, I haven’t dismissed you yet. Go lock the door,  _ Cinderella _ , and then I want you to come right back here. 

She does, the lewd thing, before returning to stand before her, looking anywhere but at Isabelle, cheeks burning and hands fiddling with a thread. 

“I want to know,” Isabelle says, “Whether you liked that. So what you’re going to do is turn around, lift up your skirts, and show me your nasty little cunt.”

And Elle does, of course, because, really, would she have disobeyed her? There’s little reluctance, though Elle does hesitate when she pulls up her dark skirts, but soon enough, a musty-smelling pussy is in front of Isabelle’s face. 

Isabelle wrinkles her nose, slaps at it quickly, and Elle flinches, her round ass trembling from the force of it, and Isabelle scoffs at her, “You’re a grimy thing, aren’t you, I can smell you from here. Don’t you ever wash?”

Elle’s voice is small when she responds, “I haven’t had time these past few days . . .”

“Ah, I see,” Isabelle says contemptuously, before pulling the thin yellow-stained panties aside to reveal Elle’s cunt, which  _ drips _ vulgarly before her, her nether lips slightly parted, white fluid coating her cunt, and it’s slimy, almost, and absolutely lewd. 

“Oh, you nasty thing,” Isabelle whispers, revolted but still, somehow, fascinated, and she lifts a single discarded perfume bottle and holds it to Elle’s cunt, slowly stuffing it into her as Elle groans like a common barnyard cow, thrusting her ass back into the bottle slightly before she stills immediately. 

“Filthy, filthy!” Isabelle practically crows and watches Elle’s ass redden in her mortification. Isabelle pushes the bottle all the way in, watches the smelly liquid coat it, and then orders, “Fuck yourself on it.”

“What?” Elle asks, her voice sounding almost scandalized. 

Isabelle slaps her ass almost immediately, handprint leaving a furious red mark on the flesh of it, “You dare?” 

“No, no,” Elle babbles, and complies, moving back and forth. Isabelle looks into the mirror across the room and watches her fall apart over this single perfume bottle, her hands on her knees, her skirts rucked up, her mouth open as she moves back and forth over the rounded crystalline object, movements becoming more and more jerky, more and more desperate, erratic, pornographic—she even pulls her top down and her breasts come falling down, pink nipples like rose petals as she thrusts herself animalistically, looking like a dog, over the bottle in Isabelle’s hand, uncontrollable in her lust. 

It’s shocking, and also exactly what Isabelle would expect from a low-blooded peasant like her. 

Elle comes then, twitching into a stop, that same odious cream squirting over Isabelle’s fingers. 

“Ugh,” Isabelle says disgustedly, and then flings the fluid off, before ordering, again, “Turn around.” 

Elle does, chest heaving, breasts rudely out, looking debauched even though she did it to herself. 

“Clean up my fingers,” Isabelle says, and then without waiting for an answer, crams them into Elle’s mouth, letting that pink tongue lap at them till their clean from her foul fluids. 

“Alright,” Isabelle nods decisively, “I’ve gotten the answer I wanted, you bitch. Get on your knees again.” 

Again, as expected, Elle is on her knees less than a moment later. 

But then time, Isabelle get up, lifts up the jade green fabric of her gown and yanks down her silken garters, exposing her ass and cunt to Elle’s face, and without waiting and without giving an order, stumbles back onto that perfect moon-like face, her fat ass cheeks slapping around Elle’s real cheeks as she rubs her asshole into the bridge of Elle’s nose. 

Elle mumbles something, but all Isabelle does is reach back and fist her hand in Elle’s golden hair and push her further into her ass, before telling her, “Lick.”

She can tell Elle is cringing slightly, and Isabelle herself knows that she doesn’t wash as well in that area, but that’s why she’s having Elle do this after all, she wants to be as clean as possible, something Elle is clearly unable to grasp even the concept of. 

“What are you doing, Isabelle?” Odile asks from her corner of the room, finally looking the slightest bit intrigued. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Isabelle snaps, thrusting her ass further over Elle’s face, annoyed that she hasn’t started feeling a tongue on the bud of her asshole. “Lick, I say! Odile, go back to your book.”

“Hmm,” Odile says, noncommittally, still looking at them. 

It’s then that Isabelle finally feels the hesitant wetness of the tip of Elle’s tongue and says finally, but still, it’s not enough, and Isabelle decides she ought to take this into her own hands. She begins rubbing herself up and down Elle’s face, wiping her ass over her essentially, using her as toilet paper if she won’t simply wipe of her own will, and soon she feels Elle begin to lick properly, long sweeping strokes around her asshole, even the flare of her nostrils as she breathes Isabelle’s filthy smell in. 

Isabelle smiles devilishly to herself, before letting loose a tiny fart on Elle’s face, making sure to hold her face firmly into her ass, she wants her to smell it, smell it all, the inside of her guts, of the food Elle cooked for her now through her entire system, it’s purer than Elle herself and so she should of course feel gifted. 

And though Elle bucks slightly, she eventually sinks even further into Isabelle’s ass, eventually licking gently at the rosebud of her ass, and Isabelle knows for sure now that the disgusting thing adores this. 

“Fuck my ass with your tongue,” Isabelle orders, and Elle finally does, driving that thin pink tongue in and out of her rosebud, and it’s nasty, beyond nasty, Isabelle can imagine the taste of herself on Elle’s tongue and face, the taste of her uncleaned insides, now being wiped up by that slender pink tongue, tasted and adored, the filthiest and most debased part of herself loved by this bitch . . . 

Isabelle can’t take the mental image in her head, and she comes, her own clear fluids spilling out over Elle’s chin and neck as she shakes over Elle’s chubby face, trembles racking her body as she continues to hold Elle’s face into her ass before letting go with a gasp and falling forward into her gowns. 

“Ah, ah,” she sighs, and looking through her lashes, she sees Elle lick her lips and wipe Isabelle’s liquid off of her breasts and into her mouth. Obscene thing. 

“Clean me up,” Isabelle says quickly, and archs her ass towards the girl again, watching as she crawls forward on her knees and sets to work, lapping at her juices till they’re gone and in her mouth. 

Isabelle can’t help but think that the dirty thing had had the feast of her life. 

“Dismissed,” Isabelle waves her hand tiredly. 

“No,” Odile says from across the room, “I’d rather like the same services, please.”

**Author's Note:**

> yup .............. still on my period and thus still pretty horny.


End file.
